The Little Racecar and the Mud
by Foxfan1992
Summary: A young racecar is escorted to a playground by his parents as they attend to errands. He makes new friends almost immediately with his cool-looking paintwork, but they like playing in the mud and the little racecar soon gets stuck with his small wheels and rear-wheel drive. As most of them leave him struggling in the mud, one takes pity on him and helps him out.


Bright warm rays of sunshine refracted through the glass window on the double-deck commuter train as it rattled along the track towards San Francisco. A young racecar with orange paintwork and white and blue flames on his sides looked eagerly out of the window at the scenery - passing by railroad crossings, under freeway overpasses and busy stations. Two adult racecars were next to him - his parents.  
"We're nearly there little buddy." said Daddy - the sun glinting off his blue and white paintwork as he reached with his front tire to his son.  
"Yay! I hope the playground is lots and lots of fun!" the little racecar squeaked excitedly.  
"Are you sure it's okay? I mean... something could happen to him." Mommy said, anxious about leaving her son on his own.  
"We won't be long, the playground will be perfect for him." Daddy said reassuringly to her.

Soon the train began to slow for the stop at Palo Alto station. The young racecar and his parents disembarked with some other vehicles of various makes and models. The racecars merged onto the road in single-file, the young one in the middle for safety. He overtook his parents to watch the departing train at the crossing.  
"Wait by the crossing, little buddy." said the little racecar's daddy.  
He had barely spoken his last word when the bells sounded and the lights flashed for the commuter train continuing on to San Francisco. The little racecar revved his engine excitedly as the loud railroad engine blew its' horn. Giving the young racecar a smile the engine blew a couple of short tones in a friendly manner as it roared past the crossing, with five smart white and red carriages in tow, crossing over the short, old truss bridge across San Francisquito creek.  
As the barriers raised and the bells stopped ringing, the racecars continued on their short road trip to the playground.

"Now, be safe my sweetie. Try not to get too dirty, you've already had one car wash today." said Mommy, her orange and white paintwork gleaming as she gently kissed her son's front fender.  
"Okay Mommy." the young racecar acknowledged.  
With that, the two parent racecars left to attend to their business.  
The little racecar watched as various vehicles played on the ramps and roundabouts. However most of them appeared to be younger than he was. The racecar's hazel eyes scanned the whole playground, trying to find some vehicles his own age, but he only found a few. There were some vehicles he saw older than him, seemingly playing on their own - mostly trucks and jeeps. He rolled over to them.  
"Can I join you guys?" asked the little racecar.  
"Hey there! Sure, if you don't mind getting a lil' dirty."  
"Cool paintwork! You're welcome to join us!"  
Other replies were also encouraging. The little racecar beamed as he joined the trucks and jeeps, in the mud.  
Having completely forgotten what his mommy had mentioned, the little racecar rolled into the mud, smiling as he watched the trucks and jeeps all around him lolloping in the mud mirthfully.

The little racecar's wheels slipped and slid in the mud, he found it hard to steer and tried not to crash into any of the trucks and jeeps in the mud with him.  
"Sorry!" he cried, skidding to a halt after a near-miss with a red pickup truck.  
The little racecar breathed a sigh of relief that he hadn't crashed. He tried to drive, but his back wheels just spun. He stopped his wheels and tried again but his wheels couldn't get any traction, they kept slipping in the mud.  
"Guys! I need help!" cried the little racecar, as his wheels just spun and spun.  
"Use your four-wheel drive." they remarked, "Like us."  
"I can't! I only have rear-wheel drive!" he cried, his wheels still spinning and spraying rooster tails, spraying mud all over his back fenders. The little racecar gasped as he felt the mud smothering his undercarriage as he bottomed out, his back wheels had sunk deep in the mud.  
Some of the trucks and jeeps watched from behind as the little racecar's wheels could only spin uselessly in the slop, spraying mud over his flames paintwork. Some of them noticed something unusual about his wheels.  
"Is it just me, or are his tires swelling?"  
"Yeah, they are. Those are 'Training Wheels', I'm not surprised he's stuck with those."  
"I didn't even notice he had them on. His paintwork looked so cool too."  
The little racecar sobbed and stopped spinning his wheels, his mud-coated, swollen tires sitting miserably in the mud.  
"Come on guys, let's go mudding over there. It's more fun without crybaby cars getting stuck with their diaper-wheels."  
"Diaper-wheels?" squeaked the racecar.  
"Your tires. Training wheels are useless in mud. Even four-wheel drive couldn't help you with those on."  
All of the trucks and jeeps left the little racecar stranded in the mud - well, almost all of them. One truck with very big ridged tires stayed behind, watching sympathetically as the little racecar tried again to get out of the mud, his swollen tires groaning and making a squeaky squealing noise as they spun uselessly.  
"Oh! Mommy told me not to get dirty! Look at my flames!" he sniffled, continuing to spin his wheels but just sending more mud splattering his paintwork.  
The lone truck glanced at the racecar's bumper and uttered a soft chuckle.  
"I can help you out. I never get stuck in the mud."  
The little racecar looked nervously at the truck.  
"P... please, can you help me?"  
"Sure thing, hang on..." said the truck; revving his engine he rolled slowly up to the little racecar's bumper, grinning as he felt the mud squishing under his large wheels.  
"Turn your wheels, little buddy - slowly though so they don't spray so much."  
The little racecar turned his wheels forwards, though in the slop they just kept slipping and made the soft groaning and squeaky squealing noise as they spun.  
"I think your wheels are cute." the truck commented as he gently pushed the little racecar's bumper, "Not like mine, some think my wheels are ugly."  
The racecar felt a little sympathetic for the truck, he seemed like such a nice guy. Soon the racecar was out of the mud and back on the asphalt.  
"There you go, you should be able to manage better now." said the truck.  
"Th... thank you so much!" said the little racecar.  
"You got a name, little buddy?"  
"I'm Timothy."  
"Timothy? Nice name! I go by 'Friendly'" replied the truck.  
Timothy giggled mirthfully but smiled happily at his new friend.  
"Thank you for helping me. I guess I'm not very good at mudding."  
"You seemed okay to me, it was those other jerks that abandoned you. Wanna play in the mud with me?"  
Timothy smiled as he rolled into the mud again to play, forgetting about his muddy paintwork and undercarriage and just having fun with his new friend.

The End


End file.
